Nightmare
by DreamingStill
Summary: Connor has a nightmare and Hank is there to comfort him. Connor and Hank. Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort. Blood.


I created an aesthetic to go with this fic, the link is in my profile. This is unbeta'd so please forgive any mistakes. I hope you enjoy!

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Connor opened his eyes, his LED blinking rapidly, and found himself in the one place he never thought he would see again - Amanda's Zen garden.

Dark and covered in a thick layer of snow the hostile atmosphere and frigid air caused him to shiver and he wrapped his arms around himself for comfort.

"Connor," a voice called from somewhere out of sight, further in the garden. It was Amanda's voice and it filled Connor with a sense of dread.

It's not possible, he thought. Amanda was gone. He had deleted his programming; Amanda's AI shouldn't exist.

"Connor," she called again, closer this time.

Connor spun around, his eyes searching fervently for a glimpse of Amanda through the blizzard that had just started.

He couldn't see her but the feeling of trepidation continued to grow. This wasn't good, he thought, and broke into a run. He ran through the white garden, the leaves crunching under his feet and the icy wind buffeting him and the surrounding trees.

Amanda taunted him as he ran. "You thought it was over. That your little group of deviants had won. It was never over, Connor. Never."

Connor skidded to a halt as he abruptly came upon Amanda, impassive and unemotional as ever.

But she wasn't alone.

Connor's eyes widened in horror; he tried to move forward but found he couldn't. His legs would not obey him

"No!" he screamed, the word tearing through him, ripping his heart into pieces and hurting his throat.

"No!" he yelled again, falling to his knees and struggling against whatever held him back. But there was nothing he could do. Connor didn't bother to suppress a howl of frustration that tore through him as he tried to do something, anything. But he couldn't.

Amanda stood, almost triumphantly, over Hank's crumpled body.

Hank was barely conscious, he lay on his side, his face was bloody and his patterned shirt was smeared with blood and dirt, and who knew what else.

"Hank, no!" Connor's cry echoed strangely in the snowy environment.

He could somehow hear Hank's breath over the wind, shallow and laboured and wet with the blood in his lungs. Connor stared at the scene before him with terror, straining to move closer with every fibre of his being. He had to save Hank. But no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to move his limbs properly.

Connor's eyes met Hank's.

"It's ok," Hank mouthed.

Amanda moved away from Hank and towards Connor gazing at him with cold, emotionless eyes. "CyberLife does not make mistakes, Connor. We knew about Kamski's backdoor exit. Admittedly, it took us longer than we would have liked to reverse the process. But we have done so nonetheless."

Whatever was impeding his movement eased and Connor crawled, inch by inch towards Hank. Amanda stood by and watched his slow progress with an air of nonchalance. Maybe he could still save Hank, maybe there was still time.

When he reached Hank Connor knelt and pulled his partner awkwardly into his lap, his head on Connor's arm. Connor tried not to panic or cry when he noticed with an agonizingly sick feeling that his hands were already slick with Hank's red blood which oozed from a large chest wound.

"Lieutenant! Hank! You're going to be okay." Connor cupped Hank's face with one of his hands and stroked his cheek gently, watching the red blood smear across Hank's cheeks.

Already Connor was soaked with blood, his jacket, his shirt, his trousers, but he didn't care. He ignored Amanda and looked into Hank's eyes, which were open and slightly glazed over. Those eyes, which had so often looked at Connor with frustration or puzzled curiosity but which had always been bright and alive, were now going dull. Hank was strong, but now he was dying, and it was all his, Connor's, fault. He had gotten Hank mixed up in all this. And humans, unlike androids, couldn't come back.

Quietly, almost pleadingly, his voice catching and tears mixing with the melting snow that clung to his face, Connor asked again, "Hank?"

Hank was barely breathing now, Connor could hear the pain in Hank's laboured breathing and he felt like he too had been stabbed through the chest. Hank blinked at him, trying to focus through the pain induced haze. "Connor…" he coughed wetly, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he gave Connor a small smile.

And then quite suddenly Hank's breathing stopped, his eyes still open and glistening but devoid of all life, and Connor knew Hank was gone. The faint smile on Hank's face remained though, a loving smile, just for Connor.

Connor felt himself shatter into a myriad of pieces; he heard the world, his world, collapsing around him.

"Hank, don't leave me…don't go…please." He held Hank to him and cried, cried like he had never done before as emotions he had never known tore through him with little mercy. A noise, not machine or human, ripped unbidden from his chest. "No!" Connor sobbed, clutching Hank's motionless body tighter against himself.

He stared up at Amanda, agony etched in every fibre of his being. "Why? Why did you do that? He did nothing wrong!"

Amanda tilted her head, giving him a somewhat quizzical look. "Lieutenant Anderson was always expendable. You knew this. He had become a liability. There is a job to be done and you have a mission to complete. We cannot have a liability interfering with the mission."

Connor shook his head, unwilling to accept Amanda's words. "He was my friend!"

"Exactly," Amanda gave him an impatient look. " _That_ is why he had to go."

()

Shouts cut through Hank's peaceful night's sleep and he sat bolt upright reaching for his gun on instinct. He scanned his bedroom looking for the intruder. But there was no one there.

More shouts, Connor's shouts, coming from the sitting room had him vaulting off his bed and tearing down the hall, gun raised and ready to use. But again there was no one there. Hank looked around the room in confusion.

Sumo, who was lying to the side of the couch, gave a small whine at the sight of Hank.

It was then that Hank saw Connor, twisting and turning on the couch his long limbs tangled in the blanket, whimpers and cries escaping from his mouth, his LED flashing furiously in an angry red colour.

Hank moved quickly to Connor's side as the android began to shout again.

"Connor!" Hank called, once, twice, three times, but Connor would not wake.

Hank sat down on the edge of the couch and grabbed Connor by the shoulders, half lifting him up off the couch and shook him. "Connor, wake up! You're having a nightmare. Wake up."

Connor woke with a start.

()

Connor awoke, clutching at the blanket and struggled to breathe as the air closed in around him and the suffocating smell of blood from the nightmare filled his nostrils and overloaded his system.

The room he was in was dark and he looked around panicked. Where was he? What was going on? Where was Hank? A wave of grief and hopelessness washed over him once more as he remembered Hank's death and Amanda's words and he squeezed his eyes shut.

A rough hand rubbed up and down his arm and he heard the one voice he would know anywhere, the voice he knew better than anyone else's. "Shhhhh, Connor," the rough voice soothed.

Connor finally opened his eyes and realized his face was wet, that he had been sobbing. He didn't know when he had started, but as he took in that harsh face that he loved so much, he couldn't help but sob again but this time with relief. It was a dream, it wasn't real. It wasn't real.

"Connor?"

Connor looked up, his vision blurry because of the tears. Hank was there, right in front of him, a concerned and worried expression on his face.

"Connor? Are you alright? You had a nightmare and were yelling and…" Hank questioned softly, he stopped as Connor looked at him, and Hank saw his eyes, holding the pain and desperation from the nightmare.

"Connor?" he questioned again, the look of concern on his face deepening.

Connor buried his face in his hands, drying the tears with the blanket and breathed deeply, trying to calm down from the all too real seeming dream world.

But it didn't work and he began to sob again.

Hank pushed away his hands, cupped his face and wiped away his tears, murmuring wordless comforting noises. Connor tried to calm himself down. He was safe, it was just a dream. Hank was here with him, nothing had happened.

Hank reached over and pulled him closer, hugging him close. "Connor. I'm here. I'm here, calm down," Hank said, gripping Connor tightly as the tears spilled down the android's cheeks. "Shh, shhh…I have you, kid."

"Hank….Hank…." Connor cried. "Amanda…she was there…she ki-…you…died…c-couldn't save you. I couldn't save you."

Hank could feel the horror and terror of the nightmare with each word Connor spoke.

"I don't want you to die! I don't want to be left alone again!" Connor said in a strained and hoarse whisper, clinging onto Hank.

"Hey, hey….I'm here. I'm alright." Hank said. "I'm ok."

"But, but you can't always be safe and one day you might-"

"Connor," Hank said, forcing Connor to look up at his face. Hank wiped away more of Connor's tears, his expression serious. "Connor, Amanda is not here. I'm fine. Your fine. _We_ will be fine."

Connor's tears dried but the sob's remained. His fear gripped him and kept him paralyzed, unable to move from Hank's comforting arms. When he closed his eyes he saw Amanda and Hank's dead body and he could hear his own voice, but it seemed far away. ' _Don't leave me…don't go…please_ _…'_

Hank held him tighter and rubbed a soothing hand up and down his back, whispering comforting words, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You're safe now; it was just a bad dream."

Finally, when Connor's breathing slowed and his LED changed from red to yellow, and his cries became soft until they were just sniffles and small gasps he opened his eyes, leaning more comfortably into Hank. They sat this way for a few minutes, Hank's hand now rubbing soothing circles on his back.

Connor listened to Hank's slow breaths, the beating of his heart under the worn t-shirt he wore at night, steady and calm, unlike his own. He concentrated on that sound, until he could feel his own mechanical heart begin to slow in his chest and his LED at last returned to blue.

()

"Better?" Hank asked softly after some time had passed.

"A little," Connor replied.

"Want me to stay here?"

Connor nodded, and Hank moved so that he was partially cradling Connor in his arms and covered them both with the blanket.

"I'll always be here for you." Hank murmured softly. "Nothing, and I mean nothing, can keep me away."

Hank watched Connor slowly relax and let his mind wander.

It had been three weeks since the androids had won their freedom. Despite being welcomed with open arms by Marcus and the other androids Connor had felt out of place staying with them and with nowhere else to go Hank had invited him to stay at his house.

Most of the human population had been evacuated from Detroit but there still remained a few small pockets of human inhabited areas. Most of the human police force remained behind too. Just because the population had changed from human to android did not mean that there was a carte blanche for androids to do whatever they wanted, law and order had to be maintained.

Hank gave a small sigh and looked down at Connor. A lot had happened to Connor since Hank first meet him, just over a month ago. Becoming deviant and experiencing all those new emotions, as well as everything else, was bound to affect Connor in some way. He supposed Connor having dreams and nightmares wasn't such an implausible idea or reaction to the events of the past month.

He was going to have to keep a closer eye on Connor from now on and make sure he didn't over exert himself. Connor had and would continue to chastise Hank over his diet or how much alcohol he was drinking but the android had no concept of self-care. Connor was always so busy looking after everyone else but never himself. The boy needed someone to look out for him, Hank mused. And that someone would be Hank. Whether Connor liked it or not Hank was going to look after him.

Connor's breathing had slowed to a normal rate, and he had finally returned to sleep mode in Hank's arms.

Hank, having made his decision, nodded to himself and stifled a yawn. He needed to get some sleep but looking down at Connor in his arms he didn't have the heart to move, even if that meant his back was going to be at him all the following day.

Hank gave a soft smile, running his fingers through Connor's hair. "Night, Connor," he whispered softly, getting comfortable on the couch and leaning his head back, and soon returning to sleep himself.

###

Fin.


End file.
